Nash stood in the middle of the room, right where he'd stopped after walking through the wreckage of the door, halfway between Aiko and Jinzo.
He wasn't moving.
His fist stayed clenched at his side, blood dripping slowly from his split knuckles. One drop hit the floor. Then another, a few seconds later, the tiny sound echoing far louder than it should have in that room. He wasn't really looking at either of them. His eyes were locked on some vague point straight ahead, on the wall, like he wasn't fully there in the room anymore, like something in him had just paused.
The distant noise of the ventilation became audible, that kind of background noise you never notice that suddenly rises to the surface when nothing else covers it. Jinzo could hear his own breathing now, ragged, far too loud in his own ears.
